


Persuasion

by paynesgrey



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-07
Updated: 2010-01-20
Packaged: 2020-10-01 00:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/pseuds/paynesgrey
Summary: Astrid and Peter strike a small deal, and Astrid certainly likes the unexpected perk that comes with it.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://apckrfan.livejournal.com/profile)[apckrfan](http://apckrfan.livejournal.com/) for the beta. This story takes place before the last episode, but kind of goes on its own.

She’d been seeing Peter more than usual at odd times around the lab. Of course, he wouldn’t stay long – just sneak in, snag something, and then with a hearty smile, he’d wave to her and leave.

She’d be deep in her work, filing something, cleaning this or that, milking the cow, and then she’d hear the door open and then those inevitable footsteps. Astrid even knew the distinctive sound and beat of his feet hitting the floor as he walked in.

On a late Friday afternoon sans Walter, he came in again quickly, just after leaving to take his father home. “Yo, Agent Farnsworth,” Peter said, announcing his presence loudly.

“Yo, Peter Bishop,” she said with light humor. Their eyes met and he cracked a genuine smile.

“A little help here?” Peter asked. Astrid poked her head out and slid the chair forward from the computer and inspected what he was pointing at.

“You’re taking that?” She was surprised, and he seemed almost giddy, like he wanted her to ask him what he was up to.

“I’ll bring it back – _quickly_,” he said. His grin was almost infectious. Astrid raised a single eyebrow. She kept her cool, obviously. The younger Bishop seemed to live off people’s attention toward him, feeding his ego like a gas-guzzling hummer.

“He’ll notice,” she said with a snort, cracking her own small smile. She crossed her arms and looked at the heavy toolbox. Inside Walter kept a lot of small and meticulous tools. In fact, Astrid was sort of frightened to venture in there. She didn’t know what was inside exactly, and Walter never made her do inventory. It was just as well, with his personality, for all she knew the Roswell aliens were in there. Not that she believed in such things, but after working in the Fringe division, she was trained to keep an open mind.

“So are you even going to give me a hint on what you’re working on for him? I’ve seen you swipe microscopes and computer hardware and all sorts of odds and ends. Usually Dr. Bishop doesn’t notice, but he was looking for a small microscope you had commandeered. I had to promise him the FBI would get him a new one,” Astrid said, trying to get a little more information out of Peter.

He just shook his head, smarmy grin in place. She was probably not going to get anything out of him, was she?

She nodded her head, and they stared at each other for awhile. “Uh huh, I see,” she said teasingly. “It’s a big secret.”

“You’ll just have to wait for the big reveal with the rest of the fans,” Peter said.

Astrid pouted. “Aww, not even a hint?”

Peter’s grin seemed brighter, but he wasn’t budging.

She sighed. “Well, I guess you can’t take these tools then, can you?” She walked over to them, and stood in front like a stone sentry. She tilted her head, challenging him.

“Oh come on, Astrid.” He pointed at her accusingly. “I’m disappointed. I never pegged you for someone who passed out bribes.”

She stepped a little closer to him. Her grin was as large as his. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Peter Bishop.”

“That’s for sure,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Okay, how about this,” he said. Always the bargainer. Astrid should have suspected this. “I dig into this tool box, get what I need, and for each piece I take, I’ll tell you a piece of information of what I’m working on.”

Astrid lifted her chin. She nodded slowly. “Sounds fair.” He began to reach, but she didn’t budge. He leaned in and sighed again. Peter was close, and she could almost feel his body heat as he neared her.

She whispered warningly, “Are you sure you want to go in there?”

He laughed a little. “Are you scared I might find the Lindberg baby in there?”

“Or worse,” she said. They turned around and looked at the tool box with awe and great caution.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. She realized that after she warned him, he seemed less relaxed, as if she had instilled in some irrational fear into him. This box did belong to Walter Bishop, after all.

“Well, go on!” she pushed her hand against his back, and he stood still. He turned his head and his expression seemed strained. “Second thoughts?”

“Maybe,” he said simply. Something else appeared to be on his mind. “I was just wondering…”

Astrid scrunched her brow, but her smile faded. Was something bothering him? Peter didn’t usually open up to her. On occasion, they fell into moments like this, even when Walter was around. Sometimes Astrid felt a part of the lab supplies, and not like an actual part of the team. Peter brought her back from that, made her feel less like a go-to girl and more like a member of his ‘geek squad’, as he had coined them not too long ago.

In her deep thinking, Astrid felt Peter’s gaze on her, as if he was studying her. Then she realized. His mind was in a totally different place than hers! The younger Bishop was actually checking her out, in his own crafty way.

Suddenly, she was acutely aware of the convenient dip in her tight red top.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Though she suspected the reason for his pause in words, in reality she treated it as concern for his health. Anything to keep the heat from flushing to her cheeks…

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked; his tone substantially softer than usual.

“Me, well…it’s Friday night, so that usually means meeting my friend Dee down at Whispers,” Astrid said coyly. She would bet money that Peter didn’t see her as a dance club girl, even though she displayed that knowledge less than a week ago.

“The club? On Montague Avenue?” Astrid nodded.

“You know it?”

“Do I?” Peter said slyly. She could sense there was more to his knowledge than he was offering. Suddenly, she became insanely curious about him. The bad boy genius thing was obvious, if not trite in its overt nature, but underneath, what was Peter really like? What was his vast underground knowledge? How many people did he know? Did he play cards with terrorists and prime ministers?

Maybe she was over-fantasizing him. She’d hate to do that. Peter was… her saving grace at this place most times.

“You want to come? I’ll warn you early; Dee might jump you,” she said, cocking her head a little. “I don’t know if you’re up to it. We sometimes club hop until 4.”

He shook his head. “I am in awe of this secret identity that Agent Farnsworth is hiding from everyone.”

“Nobody’s thought to ask before.” She leaned in close, and she made a mental note on how she liked being close to Peter, and she was getting used to it.

He paused for a moment. “You still live at the same place?”

She rolled her eyes. “You were there a week ago, asking me for a spare lab key. Yes, I still live there.”

“I’ll be there at nine,” he said, his eyes shining at her.

“Make it ten,” she said. “Unless you want to kill an hour doing nothing at my house. Dee doesn’t come over until ten thirty,” she said.

He scratched his chin. “I like nine. Besides, when am I going to tell you about your end of our deal?”

Astrid blinked. “I thought you were going to tell me here.”

“Well,” he said, bending his knees and ready to tackle sifting through the box. “I got to get these tools out now. I’m a little behind on this project as it is. I want to finish it for Monday.”

“That’s pretty soon,” Astrid said, and she sat down next to him and watched as he sifted through the unorganized box. She made a face when she thought she saw something that resembled a monkey’s paw.

“Yep, I’m almost done though,” he said, making a few faces on his own as he tossed aside some strange looking doodads.

“Here, I’ll help then,” she said, reaching her hand in the box with his. He stopped and shot her a look of disbelief.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked spookily.

She rolled her eyes at him again. “Please.”

“You never know what you might find!” he said, pulling out the monkey’s paw and coming after her with it. She backed up slightly, and he must have gauged her reaction to be more of a shrieking nature, but she only leaned back slightly and gave the monkey’s paw an offended sneer. Peter, however, fell closer to her than he planned. She could feel his hot breath, and he smelled like a Snickers bar. She froze and so did he, and when the desire for her own Snickers subsided, she realized that they were sitting on a floor, and Peter Bishop was far more inside her personal space than usual. If anyone were to interrupt them, they might get the wrong idea.

Or maybe the right idea?

“Wow,” Astrid said. “You’re close,” she said bluntly.

Instead of blushing like a school boy, as many men had done toward her in the past, Peter laughed heartily. It was so very him, and Astrid found it refreshing. She had no time for the uncomfortable nature of romantic awkwardness. If she really wanted Peter she’d just kiss him now, though she was sure Agent Dunham might have some problem with that. And if Peter wanted her, she knew he was an adult. He could make that decision on his own, and she certainly wouldn’t refuse him.

“Maybe this is something we should keep for the dance floor,” he whispered teasingly. Astrid snorted when she laughed.

“Oh, but isn’t this _so_ like us. Just two people, sitting on the floor inside the underground college lab, complete with a cow, some other strange things and scientific equipment, and we’re going through a mad scientist’s tool box that Criss Angel would run and scream from,” Astrid replied.

Peter chuckled again. “How romantic,” he droned sardonically. Astrid nodded, but before she could stick her hand back into the box and resume fishing, Peter grabbed her. She didn’t even have time to think.

His kiss was that quick and encompassing, and when he pulled her closer, her surprise transformed into a satiated lull. She’d had vague thoughts about what his kiss would taste like since she’d met him. Only until recently did she ever think she’d have a chance to test out her theory, to see just how soft his mouth really was, or how rough his stubble would feel against her face. Maybe, he’d taste so good she wouldn’t even notice, but she never thought in any of this, she’d want more. She wanted more and she wanted his lips to never come off hers again.

But they did. He made a loud moan when he released her, and he mumbled before he said clearly. “Dance floor…save. Right.”

Astrid resisted the urge to giggle, and even though the air between them was slightly heavier, at least they both had aspiring thoughts of continuing this later.

“Right,” she said in affirmation. She turned to him and in his eyes he didn’t really look like he wanted to wait. “I…uh, better get back to work. I’ll let you look at the box alone.”

He looked slightly wilted, but he nodded and gave her a quick smile. For the rest of the time, she had her back turned to him, and once in awhile she turned around to look at him, only to catch his gaze every time. He tinkered in the box a few minutes more, and soon the noises of his presence faded and he was standing up with what he needed and ready to leave. She turned around, and he was grinning at her.

“Four things,” he said excitedly. “I guess that means you only get four pieces of information about my project.”

She smirked at him. “You say that now. I bet I can get more out of you later,” she said confidently. “On the dance floor.”

He snickered. “Vile temptress!” he mocked and she smiled. She watched him leave with a big smirk, and then the place was quiet again.

Then, Jean mooed at her.

“Oh, be quiet,” Astrid said, still remembering the feeling of Peter’s kiss. Her thoughts lulled in her head as she stared at the door.

“I know what I’m doing,” she said softly.

Yeah, right. She had a ‘date’ with Peter Bishop tonight at a dance club. Peter Bishop had just kissed her, and Astrid wanted more. She was sure he wanted more too. She let out a heavy sigh. She sincerely hoped she didn’t get fired for this.

Though she had a good idea that Peter would support her on this, and they would probably be fine. The thought in itself gave her hope, and with tonight she had a lot in which to look forward.

She laughed. She wondered if she really could get more information out of Peter tonight about his project. She was at the advantage here, despite what Peter might think.

There was so, so much he just didn’t know about her.

\--


	2. Part Two

Part Two

Naturally, Walter was concerned when Peter confessed he was leaving to meet Astrid that night. First, his father had insisted to come with him, thinking he was going to the lab and work with her rather than making a social call. It took Peter a few minutes to convince his father that Astrid was in no danger, and this social call did not have anything to do with work. Peter knew Walter was prodding due to the curiosity he had in Peter’s secret project. He had to laugh at himself; however, since now he unintentionally roped Astrid into his plan, and he supposed now that Walter suggested the conspiracy that Astrid might as well know everything.

Even though Peter Bishop knew it was much more fun to leave her guessing. The brilliant FBI agent would perhaps give him something extra just for playing this game with her.

Peter scratched the back of his neck as he stepped into the elevator toward Astrid’s floor. He remembered the last time he was in Somerville to see Astrid, and that time had been out of dire circumstances, rather than voluntary like tonight.

It almost felt odd to him. He’d visited Olivia several times more than Astrid, and though his attraction and concern for her was obvious, Olivia was very clear on her intentions and where they both drew the line. Perhaps the woman needed time after John, and Peter understood that. He valued his friendship with Olivia, as he did with Astrid. He admitted he never thought his emotions could run deeper for Astrid beyond their geeky science club they started within Harvard’s basement.

The more he thought about their relationship, the more he began to feel a sense of family with all of them, and Astrid was at the foundation of it. She watched out for Walter, cried for him, and she put up with his eccentricities more than anyone should. Even Peter couldn’t tolerate him all the time, and Astrid’s comforting support was just enough to keep him grounded.

Thoughts buzzed around in his head as he approached her front door. Lightly knocking, he looked around the mundane apartment halls as he waited. He heard movement inside, and he looked into the keyhole, knowing she was looking right through to him.

“Peter,” Astrid said with a light smile, and she poked her head out and opened the door slightly. Instantly, Peter noticed that she looked different. Her hair glittered like her skin, and her shimmery purple top hung loosely over her shoulders, moving and swaying with gravity and light. 

The door creaked open as she let him in, and she walked ahead to give him space, and he took in the surroundings as she headed over to the main area of her living room. His eyes fell on her again, attracted by the glimmer of her purple top and falling over the curves of her tight miniskirt and mid-length suede boots. She caught him briefly looking at her, so he turned his gaze to the walls.

“You’ve done something different since I was last here,” Peter said, furrowing his brow. 

Astrid tilted her head and grinned. “Peter, the last time you were here, I doubt you had time to register what was in my apartment.”

He waved his hand. “Ah, you underestimate my attention to detail.” She raised an eyebrow. He laughed cheekily. “You did do something, didn’t you?”

Astrid snorted with amusement. “I changed one painting, Peter.”

He pointed at her teasingly. “Ah, but I was right!”

She rolled her eyes and headed into the kitchen. “You sound like Walter when you say that.” Peter gave her a wounded look. “Do you want something to drink?”

In her modest white-washed kitchen, she opened a cupboard and brought out a bottle of fine rum. She watched him for his answer, and when he nodded once, she dug into another cupboard for some glasses. He could hear the liquid pour as the atmosphere stilled between them.

“Well,” Astrid said with a frown and handed Peter his drink, “the bad news is that Dee won’t be coming by tonight. Swine flu,” she said with a humorous grunt. She turned to Peter after a sip of her drink (a damn good rum on the rocks) and she smiled flirtatiously, something he hardly saw in Astrid. In fact, this whole exchange between them was oddly unusual yet intriguing. “The good news is it’s just the two of us.”

“Hmmm,” Peter said with an amused tone. She took another sip, and they locked eyes. “That is good news.”

Suddenly, she backed off a little. “I would understand if you don’t want to go out tonight.”

“Come on, Astrid.” He set his drink down on an end table and held her shoulders. “Since when are you the cautious one?”

Astrid looked up at him with wide eyes that were more than a little unsure – but he saw the desire there, and the possibility. “Since I started in the FBI, I guess.”

She leaned in closer. “You’re the dangerous one, Peter Bishop. I’m just an assistant.”

He sighed heavily. “You’re joking, right?”

Suddenly, Astrid burst out laughing. Peter relaxed a little, his hands still on her shoulders.

“You’re playing me,” he said with a grunt. “Real subtle, Astrid.”

“You just don’t know my humor,” she said teasingly. 

“Well, we’re still going out. Your dry humor isn’t going to turn me away,” he said. Astrid nodded, and Peter’s eyes took in the delicate curves and angles of her face. His hands dropped off her shoulders and behind her back, and then he pulled her in.

“Peter,” Astrid said, jarring his momentum to revisit the kiss they shared in the lab. “This isn’t my humor talking when I say that I’m not sure about this.”

“Mmm? About what?” Peter said, his head dipping low and his nose nuzzling against hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but his was there before she could answer, and she melted against him – chasing away the doubts that she may have had. As he suspected, Astrid couldn’t resist him now, and Peter didn’t want to think. Astrid, so lovely and brilliant, that he couldn’t resist her once he thought of her. He’d been distracted – by unrequited feelings toward Olivia, by his past and his father, and by this infernal jumble mess known as the Pattern.

For once he just wanted to feel, and Astrid, she had always been here. His rock, his father’s friend and confidante, and he wanted nothing more to bring her into the family someday soon – properly – and never let go of the feelings she ignited inside of him. Astrid didn’t judge. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t watch in distaste as Walter offended and frightened people with his genius (or madness).

He pulled her closer, and his thoughts lit fires, spurring him to deepen their kiss as Astrid complied. She smelled good and tasted like rum and honey – feminine and clean, like nothing else he’d ever possessed before.

Reluctantly, he broke away and exhaled lightly, tracing a finger down her soft jaw and dipping under her chin. He pulled her gaze to him before she could look away, but within her eyes, he saw her undeniable strength and desire. 

She wanted this as much as he did. He backed away lightly, clearing his throat and calming himself.

“You don’t really listen well, do you?” Her tone was delighted, not reproachful or chiding. 

“Astrid, whatever hang-ups you have about me, you can tell me now,” Peter said.

“Oh, I have nothing against you, Peter; I’m just concerned for Walter,” she said, and she added in a mumble, “And Agent Dunham.” Then, she turned away, and Peter didn’t miss the uncertainty in her eyes.

“Whatever you think Olivia and I have – well, we don’t. I care about her, but it’s different. I can’t explain it,” he said. “I wish I could be more reassuring.”

Astrid shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve known Olivia for awhile, beyond the reputation. Sometimes…she’s like a wall. It’s nothing against her; in fact, I sympathize. It must be the job.” Astrid smiled lightly and continued, “But you’re different. You show tenderness more easily.”

Peter furrowed his brow, and he admitted to himself that her words were surprising. He blew out a breath. “Nobody’s ever said that about me before.” Peter’s gaze softened. “And you don’t have to worry about Walter. He adores you already. If anything, he wants you for himself.”

Astrid laughed, and Peter drew her close again so she fit warmly against his chest.

“We should probably get going,” he said just above a whisper. He caught her eyes again, and he felt mesmerized. He couldn’t stop looking at her, touching her.

“That is if you still want to go,” she said, licking her lips.

“But you invited me,” and he kissed her cheek. 

“And you promised you’d tell me what you’re working on. All night you leave me in suspense,” Astrid countered, and Peter truthfully almost forgot. 

“Oh, right, Walter’s gift,” Peter said with a chuckle. “I only promised you four hints, remember?”

“So what are they?” she punched him playfully in the chest. 

“Ah, ah, before I tell you anything, you need to put on some music,” he said as he released her. He sighed heavily. “I suppose it’s obvious we really are not going out tonight.” He flashed a smirk, and she smiled in return.

“I can read you like a book, Peter. You want to socialize with others tonight as much as I do,” she said, tilting her head at him in scrutiny. “I take it we’re still going to dance though?” She crossed her arms and he celebrated when he found her iPod.

He grinned as the device blinked on, and his eyes lit up when he read the screen. “You know you can learn a lot about a person by looking at their music.” He fiddled with the wheel, and he felt Astrid watching him as he delved further into her private life.

“Ah, now we can dance,” he said, finally picking a song. “This has to be one of my favorites.”

He set the device back into the speaker dock, and he came forward, pulling her into a close dancing lead. Astrid heard the music flutter into her ears as the song began, and she chuckled lightly against him. They began to sway – slowly and tenderly – within the center of her living room. 

“I would have never pegged you a Sade fan,” Astrid said amused.

“Shh,” he said quietly with mirth. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Soon, as the hypnotic and deep tones of the woman’s voice filtered throughout the room, they both moved in a relaxed trance, their bodies warm and fluid as the music moved them, heating their blood and satiating their hearts.

Peter moaned slightly as he pressed Astrid closer, and he caught himself, briefly, as he closed his eyes and let himself dip in the moment. Astrid was just as lulled beside him, and he lifted his hand and began caressing the coarse curls of her dark hair.

The song ended, and they both jumped as a harsh metal track blared through the speakers. Astrid giggled, and Peter exhaled in relief. “You have eclectic taste,” he remarked bluntly.

“So are you going to tell me about this project?” Astrid asked, and in their slow dancing, Peter almost forgot again; this was how distracting she was.

“Four things right?”

Astrid leaned closer to him and wrapped her arm around him so her hand settled at the dip in his back. “Come on, Peter,” she prodded gently.

He looked at her suspiciously. “I knew you were up to something.”

Astrid’s playful face turned serious. “If it’s for Walter, I want to help. Please, Peter?”

He sighed again and released a chuckle. “Fine. I doubt I’ll finish it in time without your help.” Her eyes brightened and the two of them settled on the couch. She leaned against him, and automatically he took her hand into his. “It’s an electronic microscope. It’s supposed to ultimately digitize Walter’s damaged vinyl records.” He turned to her and met her intrigued gaze. “That’s my big secret.”

“How much longer until to you finish?” she asked, leaning closer.

“It’s about 85% done. I’m just working out a few bugs.” Peter turned to her with a grin. “I suppose you want to help me with the rest?”

She smiled but her eyes fell on his lips. “You couldn’t stop me.”

He eased his arm around her, and she leaned into him, her hands pressing on his chest as he pulled her into another kiss. This one was more heated, and Peter could feel both of their bodies pushing for more when conservative lines still existed between them. Suddenly, it seemed as though Astrid no longer cared; she deepened their kiss, hungry and greedy, and Peter could not deny her. He pulled on her hands, drawing her closer as they shifted, and she straddled him on the couch. The heat between them intensified, and her body suddenly felt hot, moving against his.

“Mmm,” he moaned into her kisses, and briefly he pulled her away, looking into her eyes for one last doubt that they shouldn’t do this – that their working relationship might be a lot less formal beyond the results of this night.

She looked into his eyes, and Peter saw something there – not uncertainty, but the same formal caution that all FBI agents seemed to have. Astrid acted much differently than Olivia; maybe it was because she still thought herself as just an assistant when Peter definitely saw her as so much more.

When she leaned in slowly, unwavering, again toward his lips, he felt a sense of relief. He knew that Astrid was different from the rest of them.

His hands ran lightly over the material of her blouse, and his fingers hovered at the bottom edge, ready to dip inside. “You dressed up for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” she said confidently, and Peter blinked, and she’d pulled the top over her head, and he watched as her hair bounced into place, his eyes traveling down over the shadows and curves of her soft caramel skin. His hands, however, had energy all on their own, and he was already gently tugging at the clasp that fastened her bra. Astrid’s hands tugged impatiently at the buttons of his scarlet dress shirt, and when she succeeded, he could already feel her deft fingers sliding over the soft hair of his chest. When her hands dipped further down, he couldn’t handle it anymore – nor could she, and they shifted around again, releasing themselves completely of the rest of their clothes. 

Before settling back into the couch, Peter grabbed her back within his arms, finding her mouth again as his hands roamed elsewhere. Astrid began to pull him toward her, and she walked backward in a far off room that he guessed was her bedroom. 

He tensed – slightly bothered – when she left his mouth, hovering at the edge of his lips and talking against him. “Peter, I’ve – you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Astrid…” He kissed her, repeating her name, covering the landscape of her face with his tongue and lips. He never would have known – the stoic, diligent assistant that traded jabs with him, went beyond his own intelligence, and yet awed him with the feminine and nurturing demeanor hidden behind her soulful eyes.

When he covered her, he felt the softness of her bedcovers around them, and they both sunk into the comfort of each other’s arms. Peter found that Astrid’s bed was large, so he was able to play, rolling with her and sliding his hands around her so that every part of her was touched and treated, leaving no where on her skin for the chill of the room to reach.

He groaned as she moved against him, astonished and pleased as Astrid knew her way around his body too; her hands, God her hands were killing him, her nails scratching lightly on the soft flesh of his inner thighs and hovering, teasingly, just above the nest of curls between his legs.

Things, though, were just beginning. Peter turned her head, nibbled on her ear and delighted in the sounds she was making. Her hands rested on his ass, and he never imagined them so strong and delicate at the same time. She rocked her body against his – anticipating and waiting – drawing him breath by breath into the surmounting crescendo.

“Mmm Peter,” she said breathlessly, her voice lighter and feminine, and her breath lighting a path of fires down the dip of his neck. Perspiration trickled on his brow, and as Astrid continued to tease – rubbing and touching, he began to break. He let out a growl that surprised him, and she sighed musically in turn, just as he pulled her against him roughly, spreading her legs under his strong hands, and dipping his fingers into the beginning wetness. Her cheek slid against his – wet on wet – and she moaned. 

He wasted no time, shifted them both, and made a noise of relief as he pushed into her. At first she jarred, stilling and then moving into a steady rhythm as they melded together. He took it slow, his hands guiding her hips to prolong the rise. She struggled, wanting to move faster, to feel more, and delve him deeper. Peter settled her, kissing her again and swallowing her joyful cries. 

The wave began to crest within them at each unsynchronized breath. Peter felt so full within her, so warm and so at home. With half-opened eyes he watched her and the wonderful expressions on her face that he inspired. 

She exhaled heavily, and he felt her body tense. Astrid shuddered around him, a wonderful feeling of cool water splashing against an exhausted thirst. She relaxed, holding him and smiling against his damp skin. He moved his body just slightly, and her contented sigh and aftershocks fueled his release.

She glowed in his arms, and Peter almost couldn’t find his next breath. He lightly drew out from inside her, but she made no motion to leave his embrace. He stroked her arm lovingly, and her hand settled in the center groove of his chest.

“You know,” Peter began, but Astrid’s fingers covered his lips.

“Peter, don’t ruin the moment,” Astrid said, as if she thought she knew what he was going to say. 

He kissed her hand before he pulled it away. 

“I wasn’t,” he said, and she craned her head to see into his eyes. “I was going to say thank you.” Astrid blinked at him and he smirked at her. “Unless for some godforsaken reason you wish this didn’t happen.”

She sat up, and Peter got a lovely view of her breasts. Her chest still thrummed as she recovered her breath. She tilted her head, amused by his leering.

“I admit, it’s going to be strange at work,” she said, but then she shrugged good-naturedly. “It doesn’t have to be.” Her hands cupped his face. “I’m not the sort of person who brings drama. I’ve seen enough weird and terrible things in my job where moments like this are what make me sane, and make life wonderful for once.”

Peter smiled lazily at her, leaning his head down and burying his face between her breasts before kissing her again as they settled back into a cozy cocoon. 

“I love a girl who shares my philosophy,” he said appreciatively. He groaned happily. “Also, you are so good, Astrid.”

“Yeah,” she said agreeably, which made Peter laugh.

“And you’re wicked smart,” he continued, and he felt her hands wandering again, even as they took this moment to recover and relax.

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied.

“You’re also adorable, insatiable, and you have a beautiful, beautiful ass,” he added.

She giggled and said cheekily, “I know.”

They laughed together, reveling in each other’s naked heat.

“I care about you. I think…I’m beginning to fall for you,” he said, feeling sleepy and comfortable with her next to him.

“Hrmm,” she said, sounding sleepy herself. “Me too, Peter.” She yawned, and Peter squeezed her lightly. Her scent filled his senses, so much he never wanted to lose from his grasp, even under the harsh and mechanical lights in Walter’s lab. But in Astrid’s presence – with her touch – he’d never been so warm.

“I’ve never had much of a family, but you and Walter,” he laughed, “And big sister Olivia and big brother Broyles, I think this is it. This is perfect.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied.

He moved to look at her face, and she smiled at him before her eyes fully closed. He felt her soft breathing as she fell into a comfortable sleep. Peter leaned his head back against her fluffy pillows, and he sighed. He closed his eyes with the pleasant feeling of Astrid’s soft skin against his.

It occurred to him even briefly that Walter might worry that he wasn’t coming home that night. However, once his father knew the reason, Peter was sure he wouldn’t mind.

END


End file.
